


you missed

by itisjosh



Series: living a life of crime isn't always easy [1]
Category: Dreamwastaken
Genre: "OH GOOOOERRRGEE", "this whole kidnapping gig isn't actually that great" - sapnap, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Anxiety, Assassination Attempt(s), Assassins & Hitmen, Businessmen, Crimes & Criminals, Developing Friendships, Extreme sarcasm, Jealousy, Kidnapping, M/M, Mild Gore, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Murder, Organized Crime, Partners in Crime, Serial Killers, Strangers to Lovers, bad's super nice he just kills people lmao, dream ends up getting attached to george way too fast, dream is a bit of a dumb bitch, dream rambles a lot, dream speedruns against hitmen, eventually we get the partners in crime, george doesn't know what the fuck to do, george's got mild anxiety, he sees a cute boy and his brain stops, really shitty assassination attempts, sapnap and dream become absolute bros, they snark at each other after george gets over the minor shock, until he fuckin doesn't lmao, wilbur and dream are great friends they just hate each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25917157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itisjosh/pseuds/itisjosh
Summary: Dream's a wanted criminal - it only makes sense that people want him dead. Except he's very, very good at getting away from said people.Until he isn't.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: living a life of crime isn't always easy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1886707
Comments: 111
Kudos: 962





	1. maybe this whole kidnapping gig isn't that worth it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha this is my side project (:   
> i like having two similar things to work on so i'll be doing this and also it's been years hehehe

"You disgust me," Wilbur sighs, throwing his hand over his eyes dramatically, leaning back on his chair. His suit is already wrinkled, and Dream can't believe he's going to go to a fucking heist looking like absolute shit. Well, he always looks like absolute shit, but it's the fact that he's going to _heist_ that matters. Wilbur always looks like dogshit, but _presentation_ matters more than anything, especially in their line of work. "You absolutely disgust me. Why, _why_? Why, Dream? Why do you have to be like this? Why do you have to..make _such_ a mess for me to clean up? Wear _gloves_ next time, for fucks sake, Dream." Dream rolls his eyes, leaning back on his own chair, hood thrown over his head. It's not like it matters much, he always has the mask on, even dealing with Wilbur, but still. Presentation, it's important. He wants to tell Wilbur to go fuck himself, mostly because he _did_ wear gloves, but he keeps his mouth shut for a little longer, letting the silence run on. Wilbur shifts forwards, beanie hanging dangerously close over his eyes. Dream still can't believe he wears that thing to _meetings_. It's so identifiable, especially if he drops it when he's running, or it gets caught somewhere. At least with his mask it never goes off. Dream would very, very easily be able to tell if his mask was gone. 

"I _did_ wear gloves," he crosses his arms, tossing his head. "And you don't _have_ to clean it up," Dream reminds him, staring down at his hands, legs propped up onto the table in front of him. "Leave it as a calling card. One of them gets away, they tell their friends," he grins, even if Wilbur can't see it. "Publicity. You never think about presentation, Wilbur. You only think of the rewards." Wilbur glares at him, standing up, pushing in his chair. 

"Rewards are important," he tells him, adjusting the beanie, hair falling over his eyes. "It's the reason you chose this, and you know it, Dream. It isn't like you just do it because you want everyone to see your stupid little smiley face," Wilbur stalks over to him, hands behind his back. Dream rolls his eyes, resting his head on his hand. Fucker probably thinks he's intimidating, or whatever. "You don't just do it for the publicity. None of us do." 

"You haven't known me that long," Dream leans closer, watching Wilbur do the same. "I like the publicity. It makes me perform better." 

"Performance," Wilbur sighs. "Performance is important, but it's also important to reap the rewards you deserve. If you can take it.." he smiles. "You deserve it, right? That's why you do the things that you do. Because you think you deserve it. I know that's why everyone else does it," he snorts. "Or they really are just criminals. You don't just do it for performance's sake, and if you did," Wilbur crosses his arms. "I don't think I'd know what to do with that information. I'd be surprised." 

"You should be surprised," Dream tells him, standing up, kicking his chair closer to the table. "I'm not that new to this life, Wilbur. I don't think you have any room to speak," he waves a hand, which is gloved, fuck you, Wilbur. "Are you going to do the heist with.."

"Schlatt," Wilbur nods. "And Techno. He'll only be watching, though. Three people on a heist is perfect. I'd ask if you'd wanted to join, but I don't really care that much. And I don't like you, either way," he smiles. "I'm going to go. Next time we talk, Dream, don't do stupid shit." 

Dream rolls his eyes, tugging on his hoodie strings. "Yeah, whatever. I hope they turn on you and kill you," he doesn't. He knows that Wilbur doesn't really dislike him, it's just how they speak. It's how everyone speaks, it's easier to pretend that you hate each other than get attached, especially in this line of life. "Tell Schlatt hello. Tell Techno to fuck off." 

"Of course," Wilbur grins. "Be careful."

"You too," he smiles. It's probably the only thing he's said earnestly. "Goodbye, Soot." Wilbur nods his own goodbye, disappearing from his line of sight. Wilbur's face is fairly well-known, mostly everyone knows just who he is and who he works for, but no one has ever been able to _catch_ him. Not in the act. It helps that he has an entire team behind him that Dream hasn't met, but he _is_ good at this life. He's naturally charming and smart, and has a very good civilian front. A charismatic, half-baked musician with an unique signature style. Dream doesn't think he could ever do that, he prefers to be in the shadows entirely, to hide completely from the world. It makes his life easier. He sighs, swinging his backpack over his shoulder, throwing it onto the table. He unzips the front pocket, taking off his mask and placing it carefully in there. Dream slides off his hoodie, wraps it around his waist, and throws his bag back onto his shoulder, moving towards the door Wilbur exited out of. He presses open the door, hearing it shut with a click, locking properly. No one even looks at him as he makes his way down the stairs, brushing past people, businessmen and more obvious criminals alike. No one here has any right to ask him any questions - they've all done _something_ illegal. And he knows that Wilbur has vouched for him before, and no one here _really_ likes to tell Wilbur no, or threaten him or his friends. 

It's been a few months now since Dream met Wilbur, he thinks. Around four months, probably. He showed up on his doorstep with a proposition and a smile, offering him a place in his team. Dream said no, obviously. He works alone, and never has had any interest for teamwork, especially not with someone like Mr. Soot. He's a bit lucky that Wilbur didn't shoot him then, but he probably liked his attitude, or some generic bullshit like that. Wilbur settled for Dream to just be on friendly terms with him, considering how he was definitely up and rising. He _is_ up and rising, he's not a small name anymore, _everyone_ knows who he is. People know Dream, they know about him, they know _him_. His persona, at least. He's very well-known now, and Dream's happy with that. He refocuses on his surroundings, pushing open the door to the outside world. Wilbur's "tower" isn't that tall, not compared to every other building around it. It isn't like it matters, what matters is the business that goes on inside. Dream pauses, eyebrows furrowing. Someone's watching him. He turns to look behind him, spotting a man staring dead at him. Dream doesn't look away, giving him a curt nod instead. Admittedly, it's not that unusual for anyone around Wilbur's building to stare people down. He's probably just hired help, which Dream's seen enough of. Hired help is bullshit, it just leaves more liabilities and room for errors. 

Dream feels a hand over his mouth, panic flaring up in his chest. He shoves it down, whirling around on the person behind him, shoving them down to the ground. What the fuck..he's pretty. He's actually really, really cute. Dream blinks, straightening his posture, squaring his shoulders. "Dude, what the fuc-" He feels something connect with his head, and then he doesn't feel much of anything else.

* * *

"He's awake."

"Yeah. Let him wake up a little bit more before you torture him, okay? He's dreary." Dream opens his eyes, curling his lip at the _blinding_ light shining right in front of him. It's such a stupid fucking tactic, it does nothing but annoy him. How the hell..fuck. He breathes out, wiggling his fingers a little. His hands are bound, but he can still feel his fingers, he can still move them enough. The bonds aren't even that tight, how the fuck did he let himself get captured by..such _idiots_? He starts to move his fingers, working on untying the ropes. They're not thick at all, they're fucking..shit, cheap pieces of ropes from..the Dollar Store, or something. Fucking, fuck. They didn't even properly place him on the chair, _or_ tie up his legs. 

"Hi," the man who tried to suffocate him smiles. He's still cute, but he looks a lot more annoying now. "I'm George."

"Go fuck yourself," Dream offers. "I'm not into this." George giggles, which is just..confusing. Dream stares past him, spotting the man he had seen behind him. Probably the same person who hit him over the head with..something. His head _still_ hurts from that.

"That's rude. Well, anyways. I was hired to kill you." 

"That's nice." 

George smiles. "Thank you," he glances behind him. "It's nice to meet you, Dream. You've really started to make a name for yourself, you know?"

"I'm aware," Dream smiles back. "I'd like my mask."

"It doesn't matter if you die," the man behind George tells him. "Hi. I'm Sapnap," he introduces himself. "We could sell him for a lot of money."

"Hitmen, not fucking..human traffickers," George mutters, flipping off Sapnap. Weird name. "A man named-" 

Dream shoots himself upwards, grabbing George by the throat. The smaller guy tries to struggle, but Dream keeps his arm firm, pressing George up against his chest. "Your ropes sucked," he laughs, reaching into the man's pocket, flicking out a pocket knife. It's shit, it's not even _sharp_. Whatever, he didn't expect much from two shitty kidnappers. "Hi, Sapnap. I'm Dream. I want my mask now. Or I'll stab him." Dream won't. He hasn't..he doesn't kill people. He isn't into killing people. He just likes publicity, the performance, the rush. He isn't into blood or death or making a name for himself out of bones. 

"Okay, okay, yeah," Sapnap's breathing sounds rushed, and Dream watches as his mask slides across the floor. "Just..don't hurt him, okay?"

"Of course," Dream shifts, keeping George pinned with one arm, putting on his mask with his other hand. "Don't try kidnapping people who are skilled, and a _lot_ better than you at being a criminal. Also, your ropes sucked. They didn't even keep me for five minutes. Also, I'm taking him for a little bit until you pay me back for my time," Dream tells him. "Thanks. Where's the door out of here?" 

Sapnap stares at him. Dream stares back. "You can't just.." George opens his mouth, starting to struggle a bit. Dream nudges him with his leg, rolling his eyes. "I'm not.."

"You will," Dream tells him. "Don't worry, I'm not going to _torture_ you or whatever," he snorts. "I just want my time paid for. Five thousand dollars for each minute I've spent here. So unless you don't want to be more in debt, I'd suggest you just..let me go," he smiles, setting George down, letting him stumble forwards a little. "Okay," he spots the door, flicking the knife back into its case. "Thanks for the time. Come on, George." He grabs his bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

"Sapnap?" George sounds panicked, but he's following. At least he's smart. 

"I'll figure it out," his friend promises. "Don't worry, I..I've got this. Just don't die, dude." Dream wheezes, pressing open the door. He glances around, staring up at the sky. They're in..an abandoned bank. An abandoned bank in the middle of fuck-all. Dream scoffs, reaching into his backpack, taking out his phone. Oh, there's service. Lovely. 

"Wilbur," Dream greets. "Hi."

"I'm busy," Wilbur murmurs, voice sounding muffled. "What do you want?" 

"I need a ride," he sighs. "I'm in the middle of nowhere, and I don't have any money on me. Send me a ride?" Wilbur curses under his breath. 

"You're a fucking menace to society, Dream," he scoffs. "Fuck you. It'll be there in five minutes. What did you do?"

"It's unimportant. Thanks, Soot. Love you."

"Fuck you." And he hangs up. Dream smiles, shoving his phone into his pant's pocket. He looks back at George, who doesn't look as brave as he had been a few minutes back. 

"I'm not gonna stab you, stop looking at me like I've fucked your life," he rolls his eyes, staring at the road. "If I wanted you dead, I'd have already killed you. And I'm also not a murderer, so stop acting like you're gonna die," he sighs, crossing his arms. "Do you have a phone?"

"Yeah.." George mumbles. "It..it's in my pocket." 

Dream nods, reaching up to take off his mask, but..it's Wilbur, he would have sent someone he trusted. Or someone he knew wouldn't fuck it up. "Sweet," he spots their ride right up ahead, a..fucking limo. Of course that's what it is, what else did he expect from _Wilbur_? Schlatt probably sent it. Fucking prick. "Come on," Dream waves a hand, climbing in the backseat, making sure that George is following. "Hey." 

"Hi," the driver turns around, beaming a little too much. Did Wilbur send him a fucking..civilian? What the fuck? There's no way, he wouldn't..not even as a joke, he wouldn't do that. "I'm Bad." Dream blinks, the name echoing in his head. Bad? Wait, he _knows_ that name. 

"The famous assassin?" Bad grins, still looking friendly as ever.

"Yep!" He pops the 'p', turning back. "Will said you needed a favour? Where do you need to go? Will didn't give me a place to take you back." 

"You know where I live," Dream leans back, closing his eyes. He can hear George shift next to him. "I'm Dream, by the way."

Bad's smile is obvious, even if he can't see it. "I know! You're really popular! You're seriously getting in the spotlight. Who's your friend?"

"George," Dream introduces him. "He tried to kidnap me." He opens his eyes, watching Bad nod. 

"Oh, okay. Will didn't tell me you had another person with you, actually." 

"Yeah," Dream agrees. "It was a spur of the moment thing. A fucking mistake, probably." 

"Language," Bad chides. "Hi, George. Are you a wanted criminal, too?" He asks, sounding way too polite. Dream remembers the stories, Bad and Skeppy, a dynamic, murderous duo that very rarely failed. He's not really sure how Bad ever _killed_ someone, but personas exist, and Dream's impressed with how good Bad's acting is. Unless he just..isn't acting, but he doubts that. 

George shakes his head, blinking furiously. "N- no. I'm not." 

"Not yet, at least," Bad tells him. "Keep trying! You'll get there eventually, promise," Dream wheezes, ducking his head. Optimism from a serial killer isn't something he's seen recently. To be fair, he's been spending way too much time with Wilbur, and Wilbur doesn't have a lot of serial killer friends. Minus Techno. Fucking Techno, Dream thinks. He's killed way too many people, and he's got no right to so _clever_ about it. Fucking loser. "Okay, here's your stop," he feels the limo lurch, then stop entirely. "Will's already paid for everything! Thanks for being polite, other than the slip up," Bad directs a look to Dream. "Have fun! Feel free to ask Will for my number if you need anything! I'm always willing to help out."

"Of course," Dream grins, opening the limo door. "Come on, George. Thanks, Bad. I'll make sure to get back to you."

"No problem!" Bad smiles, and then he's gone. Dream watches the limo disappear out of his sight, wraps an arm around George. 

"Welcome home," he unlocks his door, letting George go once it's open. "Make yourself at home. Actually, give me your phone. I'm calling your partner."

"Okay," George murmurs, fishing out his phone from his pocket. Thank god he's compliant. Dream really isn't sure what he'd do if George tried to fight him. "Here..it's just..Sapnap in my contacts." Dream nods, scrolling through George's phone for a second.

"Oh my god, George?"

"Dream." 

"Oh," Sapnap sighs. "Cool. He's still alive, right? You haven't sold his organs on the black market or whatever? Asking for a friend." Dream snorts, glancing over at George, who's shifting from foot to foot, keeping his eyes down. 

"Don't worry, he's okay. How's the money coming along?" 

"Well," Sapnap breathes in. "Uh, not very well. It's gonna take a bit, man. I'm sorry and all that, but I can't rush it. And I'm not mob material, I can't just go murder someone for ten bucks." Dream smiles, already liking him. At least he's honest. 

"That's fine. I'll just keep him until then. I'll check in with you every day until I get my money." 

"Sounds great, really," Sapnap laughs. "Okay. Tell him I said hi, I gotta go now. Bye, Dream."

Dream snorts, flipping up his hood. "Bye, Sapnap," he hangs up, tossing George's phone over to him. The other man barely manages to catch it, fumbling it in his hands before desperately shoving it back in his pocket. "You're probably gonna stay with me for a month or two."

"What?" George stares at him, eyes huge. "What the fuck..I can't do that." 

"I don't think you have much of a choice," Dream stares at him. Not like that matters, George can't even see his face behind the mask. "Seriously, you're fine. You need to stop freaking out. I don't kill people." 

"You threatened to stab me!" George protests, backing up, pressing himself against Dream's door. "You held a knife to my throat!"

"I didn't," Dream frowns. "I took the knife out of your pocket, I didn't put it to your neck or anything," he reminds him. "Seriously, you're _fine,_ " Dream rolls his eyes. "I'm not going to kill you. And if you freak out, you'll hyperventilate, and I'm not good at getting people to stop doing that," Dream tells him. "You should sit down," when George just..doesn't, Dream sighs again. "Listen," he takes a step forwards, hands out. "I steal things, okay? I don't hurt people. I'm not a hitman or anything like that. My line of work doesn't involve hurting people, and I wouldn't even.." he shakes his head. "You _kidnapped_ me, dude. You didn't fucking kill my family or torture me or something. Yeah, maybe you were gonna go with the assassination attempt, but you didn't. You're just a deal to me, and if you die, I don't get my money. Why the hell would I kill you? I don't even know how to hide a body, man. I don't know anything about murder, I don't know the first _thing_ about how to kill someone. Or how to, like, get blood out of carpet, or where I'd put you, or like..do I fucking cut you up? I don't know murder, George. I'm bad at murder."

For the first time since they've met, Dream sees George genuinely smile, eyebrows raised. "You're bad at murder."

"Yeah," Dream smiles. "I'm bad at murder." Something about the way George smiles is..nice. It kind of makes him feel better, in some fucked way. 

"Okay," George's seems to have calmed down, looking a lot less nervous that he had a few minutes ago. "Okay. I get it," he sighs, hand pressed to his head. "I've never been kidnapped before." 

"Neither have I," Dream rolls his eyes. "Until today."

"Yeah," George agrees. "Until today," he breathes out. "Um. Your place is nice."

"Thanks," Dream grins, making his way towards his fridge. "I bought it with stolen money." That's a lie. He wasn't living anywhere fancy, couch-surfing with people he pretended to know. Then Wilbur fucking showed up, gave him a deed and threw him in here with a loaf of bread and three cucumbers. As an offering of peace. Fucking bastard. 

"That's..nice," George looks around, probably admiring the place. Dream still does the same, sometimes. He didn't grow up rich, but he wasn't badly off. Just not rich. This place is..it's really nice, it really, really is. "Who did..who did you call?" 

"A friend of mine," Dream smiles. Wilbur would hate being referred to as his friend. "Business partner. You probably know him, he's kind of important. He's widely spoken about," he opens his fridge, pulling out the leftover takeout he had last night. He turns to George, holding up the bag as a peace offering. "Do you like burgers?"


	2. i think this whole kidnapping gig might not be that worth it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo thank you all SO much for the huge amount of support on this fic!! :DD it's so nice to see so many validating comments since i'm a little bitch for validation/comments lmao thank you all so much i'm love it

It's been a little over two days with George living with him. Living with him? Being in his possession. Either way, George has made himself completely comfortable with everything around him, and has definitely already adapted. Other than the first night, where he tried to escape out the fucking window. God, he screamed _so_ loud when Dream asked him what he was doing, Dream's pretty sure his ears are still ringing. He feels lucky that George didn't scream when they got to his house, because the police would have _definitely_ been called. Maybe CPS, too. Definitely the police, though. Dream sighs, looking over to the couch, watching George scroll through his phone, legs propped up on the arm of the couch. He's really, really made himself at home. It's not like he has much of a choice, but it's still nice that he's stopped being so _nervous_. For someone who's supposed to be hired help, he was _way_ too scared. "I'm having a meeting tonight." Dream clears his throat, standing up from his spot in the kitchen, sliding his chair forwards, picking up his bowl. Wilbur brought him fucking _Lucky Charms_ when he visited last week. Dream knows that it's a weird ritual of friendship, one that he does appreciate, but it's still weird.

"Oh," George looks up, his stupid pair of goggles sliding down to the bridge of his nose. "With who?" Dream shrugs, turning on the sink. There's not very many dishes now, he might as well do them while there's like, two. Plus, he's rooming with another person now, and he doesn't really think George plans on cleaning up after himself. "Dream. Who's the meeting with?" George raises his voice a little, sitting up properly on the couch. "Is it with the..the limo driver?"

"His name's Bad," Dream tells him. "He isn't just the limo driver. And no, it's not with Bad. Why do you care? It's not like it involves you." George scoffs, crossing his arms.

"It's not like I have a choice on if I want to be here or not," he glares, turning his head away. "I want to get used to it. I'm only gonna be here for another couple of days, but I..I don't want to fucking freak out again, okay?" Dream stares at him, opening his mouth to say something. "I have anxiety. Mild, I guess, and if the mob is suddenly fucking here, I don't.." 

"Okay," Dream interrupts, adjusting his mask a little better. "Okay, I understand," he turns off the water, drying his hands. "Wilbur Soot. You might know him as Will, or something like that, but that's him. He was the person I told to get me a ride. Us a ride," he corrects himself. "He's a tall dumb bitch who likes to wear beanies and sometimes plays the guitar. He's not that threatening unless he needs to be. He's just tall, that's it. That's his personality, tall. And he's not in the mob, he's barely even a criminal." Well, that's not entirely true. Wilbur's a big player in the underworld of crime, and he definitely has contacts with the mob. 

George snorts, leaning back against the couch. His face looks a little paler than it had been a few minutes ago. "Okay. Thanks. I didn't expect my kidnapper to be this compliant." Dream rolls his eyes, walking towards his door. He knows Wilbur is out there, and he can't _wait_ to ruin his stupid dramatic entrance. 

"I just want my money," he opens the door, and there he is. Wilbur blinks, taking a step back. "Hi, Scoot."

"Fuck you," Wilbur scoffs, making his way into the house. "What..?" He stares at George, looking back at Dream, eyes narrowed. "Dream, what the fuck?"

"Meet George," Dream introduces him, beaming. "He's my new prized possession. I stole him. I'm waiting to get a couple thousand before I give him back." Wilbur blinks, opening his mouth before he snaps it shut, turning to face Dream, hand reaching out to grab him by the shoulder. 

"Dream, listen very closely," Wilbur leans in, voice lowering. "This is bullshit." 

"I agree entirely," Dream nods. "It wasn't my choice. I didn't ask for my time to be taken up. He's just collateral, don't worry. I can lock him in my room if you don't trust him to keep his mouth shut," he offers. "But if he breaks out through the window, I'm not going to be happy with you." He tells him.

Wilbur closes his eyes, moving back a few steps. He opens his eyes when he's in front of George, arms crossed against his chest. "George," George blinks up at him, very obviously sweating. God, it's not like Wilbur's even that fucking intimidating. Dream rolls his eyes, but he can't help but watch, vaguely interested in what's happening. "My name is Wilbur Soot," he reaches out, hand a few inches away from George. George reaches out, shaking Wilbur's hand with his own. "I'm at the head of Soot Inc." 

"I..yeah, I know."

"Good," Wilbur smiles. "I don't want to sound imposing, but I hope you plan on keeping your mouth shut on whatever my partner and I talk about, alright?" His smile is a little less icy, a bit more..warm. What the fuck? Does George just make every criminal fucking soft or something? "I don't think you'll be an issue, am I right?"

"No issues here," George stumbles over his words, hands held up. "I..I'm just..here for a bit," Wilbur nods, turning away to face Dream again. "I can..I can go to your room, if you want me to?" He offers, voice barely louder than a squeak. Dream rolls his eyes, smiling from behind his mask. 

"You can stay," Wilbur tells him, which Dream doesn't really appreciate. It's not like George is Wilbur's person to order around. He isn't the one who kidnapped him. "Do you want a job?" Dream scoffs, grabbing Wilbur by the shoulder, dragging him back towards his kitchen table. 

"No, he fucking doesn't," Dream glares at him, hoping the bastard can tell that's exactly what he's doing. "He's not leaving until I get my money." He crosses his arms, sneering at Wilbur. Did he really think that'd work? What the hell is wrong with him? 

Wilbur smiles, tilting his head a little, his hair failing in his face. Disgusting. He leans forwards, right next to Dream's ear. "Jealous?" He murmurs, and Dream scoffs, giving him a shove back. "I see," he smiles a little more, but he backs off, sitting down at the kitchen table. "Schlatt fucked up."

"He never fucks up," Dream sits down across from him, leaning back in his seat. "He's smart." 

"Sometimes," Wilbur agrees. "But he got caught in our last heist. I need another person."

"Oh," Dream grins. He could..he could finally team up with Techno and Wilbur, complete a heist with two big players in the underworld. He's already made a huge name for himself, but the performance, the _performance_ , god it would be fucking amazing. He opens his mouth to say _yes_ , but he turns, looking at George. "I.." if he did a heist with Wilbur and Techno, he'd leave George alone. Alone in his house. He would run, he'd run, and then Dream wouldn't get his money. "What about him?" Wilbur gives him a one-shouldered shrug, leaning back on his chair. 

"Get him a babysitter, or something. I know that Bad wouldn't mind staying with him, but.." he sighs. "He's polite, nice, and very optimistic about most things. But he's also a serial killer, and he _did_ kill a _lot_ of people. He's mostly moved past murder, but I'm not sure if he'd take the opportunity. George seems very..small." 

"Well, he's not a fucking criminal," Dream scoffs. "Bad wouldn't..he wouldn't kill him. I'd pay him enough to make sure he didn't pull that shit. He takes money, right? I'm sure I've got enough to tell him off. Keep him away from my claim."

"Your claim," Wilbur grins, eyebrow raised. " _Your_ claim? You've already gotten attached to him, Dream? Really?"

"I'm not attached, Wilbur," he glares, wanting to punch him in the face _so_ fucking bad. Of course he wouldn't understand, he _never_ understands. He just thinks about the rewards, about the outcome. Sure, that's what Dream's doing, but it's _important_. He doesn't want to fuck around with George's life right now, he still hasn't gotten his money, and probably won't for a little bit of time. "I just want my goddamn money," he leans forwards, interlacing his fingers together. "Fuck you, Soot. You're acting like I'm a possessive little bitch who doesn't know what he's doing. I know what I'm doing, Wilbur." Wilbur holds up his hands, blinking. 

"Okay," he agrees. "Alright. I see, I get it. Didn't mean to piss you off," he seems genuine, which he fucking better be. "You could.." he sighs, waves a hand. "Maybe you could bring him with you. With us. Keep him with Techno while we grab shit and get out," Wilbur offers. "It isn't like Techno would let him get away. And he's like, three times his size," he snorts. "He's probably stronger than him, too. If he runs, Techno can just throw him over his shoulder, it'd be alright." 

Dream nods, carefully thinking over it. "I'll have to think on it. I don't want to miss out on this, but the money I'm getting from this.." he pauses, shaking his head. "How much would I make off of this heist?" 

"Thirty, forty grand?" Wilbur tilts his head to the side, resting it on his hand. "I'm not sure yet. We haven't quite worked out the details on this one. It'll be happening on Thursday," he tells him, glancing towards George. "I'll check in with you on the day before to see what you'll do. If not, I can just bond Schlatt out." Dream wheezes, grinning. 

"You haven't bonded him out?" Wilbur rolls his eyes, and Dream can see an actual smile. 

"No. It was his fault he got caught, I'm letting him stew and think about what he did. I'll bond him out eventually, maybe in a day or two, but I want him to think for a bit. Make sure he doesn't do the same thing next time. He won't, but I want to send the point home." Dream laughs, nodding his agreement. Wilbur, as stupid as he is, has always had a good sense of humour. 

"I like that. Okay. I'll get back to you once I figure it out. I need Bad's number." 

"Of course. I'll send it to you," Wilbur tells him, standing up, pushing in his chair. "I'll talk to you later, Dream," he promises, making his way over to George, reaching out, grabbing his shoulder. "It was nice to meet you, George."

"Y-yeah, you, um, you too." George mumbles, shifting uncomfortably. Wilbur just grins, but he leaves once he probably spots Dream staring at him. Even though Dream _knows_ he can't see his face past the mask, he knows very well that he can tell that he's pissed. 

"Fucking.." Dream shakes his head, glancing at the spot where Wilbur was sitting, spotting a single, red apple there. "Fuck's sake," he snorts, locking the door once Wilbur leaves. It's not like it matters, everyone he knows can pick locks very easily, but _still_. It makes him feel kind of better, and it's his house, anyways. "Sorry he assaulted you." George laughs, looking a little less on edge. 

"He just touched my shoulder, it's okay. Also, um..can you call Sapnap?" He asks, holding out his phone. "I need new clothes after I take a shower tonight, and my meds are at his place. I got, uh..I got evicted. I was just staying there for a little." Dream blinks, frowning. 

"I have clothes," he takes George's phone, unlocking it. He's memorized the pattern already after George made the mistake of unlocking it while he was watching. "And yeah, of course. We'll drive over there. I have Bad's phone number now, I can call him," he rings Sapnap, waiting until the ringing stops. "Hi."

"Dream!" Sapnap greets. "It's like I haven't heard from you in ten years," he sighs. "How's George?"

"He's okay," he shrugs, unlocking his own phone. "He said he was staying with you. I'm coming over with him so he can get his stuff. Meds and shit." 

"Oh, totally, yeah. I'll throw all his shit in a suitcase to make it easier. I'll text you the address, door's unlocked. Come over at any time, I'll be waiting. Love you." 

Dream snorts. "Thanks, Sapnap. We'll be over soon," he hangs up, waiting to get the address before he hands George's phone back, looking down at his own. He sighs at Wilbur's text, which is cryptic as always. Bad's number is there, but it's also Wilbur rambling about the heist, especially about the cameras. "Okay, let's go." George nods, standing up, following Dream out of his house. 

"I..what you said earlier, I think your clothes might be too big for me. You're..tall." Dream wheezes, turning over his car, keys jangling when he does it. 

"Yeah," he agrees. "Fair enough. Do you have enough clothes at his place, or do you need me to buy you shit?" George blinks at him.

"You'd buy me clothes?"

"I don't want you to like, be a prisoner," Dream scoffs. "I'm not a bad person."

"Well, yeah, but," George ducks his head, shrugging. "I figured you wouldn't want to spend money. Since that's the entire reason you have me." 

"I'm not spending my own money," Dream reassures him. "It's Wilbur's. And it isn't the only reason, it was also out of spite. You distracted me so Sapnap could hit me over the head. I'm still annoyed about that." 

"I.." he goes quiet for a bit, shifting in his seat. "I didn't expect you to turn around so fast." Dream rolls his eyes, glancing down at the address Sapnap gave him.

"You suck at trying to suffocate someone. You keep your hand clamped over their mouth _and_ nose. I could still breathe. And keep an arm wrapped around their throat and squeeze to make sure no air's getting through. It's better if you catch them off guard before you do it, too. I spotted Sapnap a minute before you tried to strangle me. Oh, and daze them. Dazing is important. If they aren't sure what's going on, it's easier to keep them restrained. Unless they start to thrash and shit, but that's annoying and it probably won't work. Always keep behind them and keep your head away from theirs. Just in case they try to headbutt you so you're disorientated. Just keep aware and you'll be fine. Also, people who look confident are probably confident. You can look for certain tells, like if they're closed in on themselves, or if they're trying to attract as little attention as possible. Looking bold even if you don't feel like it is a good way to deter kidnappers." 

George blinks at him, mouth hanging open. "You..why're you giving me advice on how to kidnap people?"

"Because you're..you're shit at it?" Dream raises an eyebrow, taking a left. "It's also advice on how to not get kidnapped. If you think like a kidnapper, you'll be better at getting away from one. Like if you had started to struggle when I had grabbed you, you _might_ have been able to get the knife back from me. But it was smart to not do that, since I didn't plan on hurting you or doing anything to you. You only really need to struggle when you think that the person who's got you pinned is going to hurt you. Plus, height advantage. You're short, I'm not. Even if you headbutted back, you probably would've just hit my chest, _maybe_ my neck if you aimed up a bit higher. You just have to be aware," George is quiet for a while, keeping his head down, hands in his lap. "Oh, hey. We're here." He spots Sapnap on the porch, suitcase in hand. 

"George!" Sapnap grins as soon as they get out of the car, grabbing his friend, squeezing him so hard Dream's pretty sure he hears George's ribs crack. "He hasn't tortured you, right?" George laughs, giving his friend a shove, grabbing his stuff. 

"It's okay. I'm okay," he promises. "Hurry up with the money." He whispers, probably thinking Dream can't hear him.

"I will," Sapnap promises back. "I got everything I thought was yours in there. Medicine and all, your clothes, shit like that. You didn't have a lot, so I threw in a few of my shirts. Hopefully they'll fit you." George snorts, smiling. 

"Okay," Dream interrupts, leaning against his car. "Thanks, Sapnap. Let's go back, George." 

"Yeah," he shrugs. "No problem, man. I'm at the first five thousand. How much more do I owe you?"

"Twenty grand," Dream tells him. They had taken up four minutes of his time, if he remembers right. He isn't looking to put Sapnap completely in debt, but he's also not going to let them get off easy with their bullshit. "Keep all the money until you get it all. That way it can just be a big transaction." 

"Got it," Sapnap nods. "Alright. Bye, George. Bye, Dream." 

"Bye, Sapnap," George looks at him a little sadly, but he shuffles back to the car, throwing his suitcase in the back. Dream does the same thing, starting his car, backing out of Sapnap's driveway. "Dream."

"Yeah?"

"We're being followed." Dream frowns, casually glancing over his shoulder, like he's making sure he isn't about to back into anything. He spots a man staring them down, sighing.

"Okay. You know what, fuck it," he stops the car, getting out of it. He puts on his frat boy attitude, hitting his chest with his hand as he approaches the guy. "Dude, what the _fuck_ are you looking at? You have a fucking problem man?"

"Your friend owes me money," the man tells him, barely flinching away from how loud he is. "The one in the car. I suggest you pay me, n-" Dream scoffs, slamming his hand forwards, hitting the bitch right in the face. He goes down without much force, and Dream slams his foot down on his face, not hard enough to kill him. Just hard enough to make sure he stays down there for a while. He sighs, cracking his knuckles, glancing around. He doesn't see anyone else around him, so he crouches down, fishing out the man's wallet. Nothing, just..empty. Fuck, he clearly has an employer. Dream stands back up, frowning down at the guy. What the hell? George owes someone money, really?

"Dream!" He whirls around to.. _fuck_. There's George, and there's another man.

Another man with a gun to George's head.


	3. i'm starting to think that this whole kidnapping gig might actually be worth it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw; blood, violence, murder & death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D

_Fuck_. 

"Put the gun down," Dream calls out, hands up. "We're talking this through. We don't need to kill people." The man grins at him, his head tilted, gripping the gun harder. It looks like a Springfield, but he can't tell. He isn't close enough, fuck. He's not close enough to even trick the guy into dropping it. He's..he doesn't have any power in this situation. 

"I think I'll keep my gun," the man snarls, squaring his shoulders. "Your friend owes me a _lot_ of money. I don't think you quite understand, _Dream_. On the ground, hands in the air," he opens the door, dragging George out of it, shoving him to his knees. "I'll talk to you. But I'm not going to let either of you leave. I want my money." 

"Okay," Dream slowly lowers himself to his knees. If anyone sees them, he's fucked. He isn't going to just..leave George. He's not going to let him die. Even if it's just so he gets his own money, it would be shitty of him to let someone die. Especially if he could stop it. "Okay, I'm down. Hands are up," he swallows, breathing out. "Let's talk." 

The man smirks, tapping the gun against George's head. "Good. He owes me around two hundred thousand. I want it by tonight. He'll be coming with me until you show up. I'll give you a call when I want my money, do you understand?" Dream nods, watching as the man shoves George up to his feet, keeping him from moving on his own. "Good. I'll see you later, Dream." And then he's gone, disappearing in a car Dream hadn't even noticed, George going with him. As soon as they're gone, he launches himself out, unlocking his phone as fast as he can, dialing the first number he can think of. 

"I have a really, really big problem. I'm not a murderer, but you are. And I really, _really_ need someone dead."

* * *

Dream is pissed. 

He's really, really, _really_ fucking pissed. He throws on his gloves, changes his shirt, throws on another shirt and another hoodie. Laces up his boots, tightening his gloves again because they're already sliding back. He presses his mask against his face, eyes narrowed behind it. He feels the knives in his pockets, the ones hidden in his clothes. The shotgun strapped to his back. He's never used it, he's never even _thought_ of using it, but if he has to, he will. If it puts George in danger, he will. He cracks his knuckles, checking the time. Nine at night. He has thirty minutes before he needs to be there. He has thirty minutes before his morals might go south. Dream scoffs at himself, wondering how the hell his life got here in just a few days. He doesn't even _care_ about George, but the performance, the money he'll get after, that's important. He isn't going to let twenty grand go to waste because he just let George die. 

He breathes out, pushing open his door, running straight into..fuck, thank god it's him. "Techno," Dream greets, backing up. Techno isn't taller than him, he's not even that tall. "Good to meet you." 

"It's nice to meet you," Techno snorts, voice lower than Dream expected. God, he sounds like a fucking chainsmoker. "You know where we're goin'?"

"Of course I know where we're going," he glares, but it isn't like Techno can tell. "It's not like I just decided to wing it." Techno grins, brushing his hair back. 

"I'd hope so. Bad is here, by the way. He'd like to help. He's taken an interest on your pet project," Dream notices the two fangs just barely jutting out of Techno's mouth. The hell? Whatever, it's not his place to judge. It's not like Techno _had_ to help him, Dream isn't even _paying_ him. Thank god he just has a murderous bloodlust quota. "Speakin' of pet project. You comin' on the heist or not?"

"I'm not sure yet. Wilbur said I had a bit until I decided. I might have to take it off this time, though. I'm sure there'll be more opportunities in the future." Techno nods, crossing his arms.

"Cool," he turns, starting to walk. "Wilbur told me you got kidnapped. How'd that go for you? How long'd you last?"

"Four minutes," Dream scoffs. "The ropes were shit. George and his friend kidnapped me, and now I'm getting money out of it." 

Techno nods, not looking back. "I see. We're rescuin' him because you want money. Or is it because you developed stockholm syndrome real fast?" Dream rolls his eyes, not saying anything to that. He doesn't have to say anything. Techno _should_ be able to pick up on it. "Mornin', Bad. Did you have a good ride on over?"

"I did!" Bad beams, pushing up his glasses. "Thanks for asking, Techno. What about you? Hi, Dream. How are you?"

"I'm okay." 

"It'll be an even better mornin' once I get my quota in for the day," Techno grins, leaning back in the front seat, leaving the back for Dream. "Dream's got the directions. Did you recognise who took him, Dream? Or was it just some random asshole?"

" _Language_." Bad chides, quietly tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. Dream shrugs, twirling his knife in his hands, letting it fly upwards, catching the blade in between his fingers. 

"Someone I didn't know. It doesn't mean George didn't know him. I think he's just using a tactic for money. George didn't look like he knew him." Techno nods, turning around to face him, smiling. 

"Don't sound so worried, Dream. I always get my jobs done, especially for people I like." Dream raises an eyebrow, crosses his arms.

"You barely know me."

"I know enough about you," he shrugs, turning back to face the front. "It's not like you're a small name, you know. Not anymore. Oh, by the way. Keep the shotgun in the car," Techno sounds like he's smiling. "I've already got what we need, and that's just loud and flashy. Plus, you're not a serial killer," he turns. "I am. I've got everything taken care of, nothin' to worry about. I've got us covered, promise," he pauses, grinning way too widdly. "Remember? Technoblade never dies." Dream snorts, wheezing behind the mask. He hasn't met Techno personally before, but Dream's really starting to like him. 

"Okay. I'm just not..this hasn't happened before." Techno smiles, nodding.

"Yeah. Gettin' kidnapped isn't fun. It's worse when it's someone you know, especially when they try to make you pay. That much for _him_? He's tiny, isn't he? That's what Wilbur told me."

"Everyone's tiny compared to Wilbur," Dream scoffs. "And me, but especially Wilbur. He's not..he isn't _big_. He's not that tall or strong, but he's also not a fucking _criminal_."

"Language," Bad sighs. "I think we're here, by the way. I'm coming in, I already like George. Do you want the kill?" He turns to look at Techno, casually as ever. Just like he's talking about the weather or how his day was. "Oh, I'm sorry. Do you want the kill, Dream?" He asks, genuinely interested. He's..he isn't kidding. 

"I don't kill people." Bad nods, turning back to Techno. 

"I'll kill him if I get to him first," Techno shrugs. "It's not like I'm picky. You hit him, you hit him. I've got more targets anyways, it's not like I'm gonna run out any time soon." Bad giggles, slamming his door shut. 

"I guess you're right," he beams, opening Dream's door for him. "Don't worry, Dream. We'll get George back, I promise. Techno and I are really good at our jobs. And I don't let my friends down," he grins, and it's the first time Dream's seriously considered him a threat. The bloodlust is..it's definitely more apparent now than it has been before. Dream can see the scars, the bags under his eyes. Even if his smile hides the biggest threat, he can still see the evidence of who he really is. Bad claps his hands together, looking way too happy for _this_. "Alright! Let's go! How much time do we have to spare?"

"Twenty minutes," Dream breathes out. "The plan is-"

"You'll go in first," Techno interrupts. "I'll come on in second, and Bad can follow me in last, just in case somethin' happens. I'll stab a few people, he'll stab a few people, you talk to the guy who kidnapped your friend. Once you give him the laundered money, I'll figure out a way to get in there. Or I'll just stab him. Or shoot him," he adds, patting his hip. "Not sure yet."

Dream frowns, eyebrows furrowing together. "Shouldn't we..make a plan? So we know what we're doing before we go in?" Techno smiles, rolls his eyes. 

"Plans are nice and all, but they never go through. Trust me, it's only sentimental. Once you get in there, nothin' goes the way it's supposed to. Right, Bad?" Bad nods, and Dream watches as he drops to ground, hands working furiously at a lock. It clicks open in a few seconds, and he stands back up, turning and grinning at both of them. 

"It's open!" He swings the door forwards, propping himself against it with his right foot. "Did he tell you to meet alone? I feel like that would've been important to talk about in the car."

"Yeah," Dream agrees, mumbling it. "But, yeah, no. He didn't. He didn't even say anything about it, he just told me to come at this time. He couldn't have expected me not to be prepared." 

"Obviously," Techno waltzes forwards, his blood-red trench coat trailing behind him. "He'll expect it, but he's not gonna expect just _who_ you brought with you," he snorts, and Dream watches as he twirls a knife in his hand, catching it by the blade perfectly, right in between his fingers. "Alright, now we shut up. This part doesn't involve a lot of talkin'." Dream follows behind him, carefully scanning the area around him, breathing out as he walks. He hears the door slam behind him, locking itself back shut, and then he hears Bad's footsteps, trailing close behind. He breathes out again, the smell of blood getting increasingly stronger the farther they walk. Dream shudders, but he keeps his pace, not wanting to lose Techno in these hallways. He isn't..Dream's not _scared._ He's uncomfortable and nervous. He's nervous because he doesn't want George to die. He wants his money, that's all. He shoves his hands in his pocket, running his finger over the hilt of his blade, closing his eyes for a half second. He opens them again, watching the halls as he passes them, a scream ripping him from his thoughts. The voice doesn't sound like George. 

"What the fuck.." he mutters, hunching his shoulders as he keeps moving. Dream looks behind him, spotting Bad glaring ahead. "Did you see something?"

"Quiet," Bad murmurs. "It's just a regular factory," he shrugs, playing with the knife in his hand. Dream hadn't even..he hadn't even fucking noticed him pull it out. Jesus Christ. As nice as Bad is, he's still a serial killer. He still has those instincts, those urges. He's killed people and he didn't feel remorse. "Probably a lot of killers in here. A lot of victims, too." He sighs, looking genuinely upset for a second. It fades off of his face, though, replaced with something much, much more sinister. Dream turns back around, swallowing. Whatever. Bad's a murderer, so fucking what, he's best friends with someone who's practically in the mob. It doesn't matter, it isn't like he's any better. He just doesn't kill people, that's all. There's not much of a difference between them, if he squints. He barely can see the line between them anyways. They're both criminals. Dream sighs, keeps following Techno throughout the halls. He notices the blood splattered around them, it's fucking _everywhere_. On the floor, on the walls, on the goddamn ceiling. Christ. He isn't squeamish, but god, it's just..everywhere. 

Techno stops walking, and Dream nearly runs right into him. "Huh. Sounds like your guy, Dream?" He goes silent, letting Dream listen. He can hear muffled talking, and..that voice definitely sounds like George. Thank god he isn't screaming or anything. "Yeah?" Dream nods, breathing out. "Good. Alright. I spotted a vent about three doors down, if you wanna go that route, Bad. Dream and I'll go through the main door here." Bad nods, his eyes narrowed but he's smiling wider than ever. He looks..bloodthirsty. 

"Got it! I'll see you guys later!" He beams, waving the hand with the knife, bounding off, humming something as he goes. Techno just shakes his head, smiling fondly after him. Dream has no clue how the fuck they do that. Techno presses open the door, slipping his knife into his pocket as he does so. As soon as that door opens completely, Dream saunters on in, forcing himself to chill. He might be dealing with murderers, but they're also dealing with _him_. The man who he made the deal with stares at him, and he..what the _fuck_. George is hurt.

"You said you wouldn't fucking-"

"He wouldn't stop struggling," the man interrupts, crossing his arms. "I want my money." 

"And I thought he'd be in.." Dream sneers. "The same condition I left him in. He's damaged. That shit won't slide," the man sighs, waving a hand. Dream watches as a knife dangles dangerously close to George's arm, lightly brushing up against it, the skin already breaking. "Okay!" He holds up his hands, wincing when George does the same. "Put the knife down. I'll give you the money once you put it down." The man complies, setting the knife down on a table right next to George, waiting patiently.

"If you just came here to stare at me, I'm not going to keep you in here. Not together, at least. I think you know exactly what fucking happens here, don't you?" He asks, moving behind George, hands resting on his shoulders, fingers moving towards his throat. "He isn't an exception. None of you are exceptions." He starts to squeeze, and Dream watches as George shouts, but it's cut off so fast, he can't breathe, he's going to strangle George, he-

"Language," Bad scoffs, dropping down from behind the man, punching him in the back of the head. The guy spins around, stumbling back. Which is a mistake, because Techno moves faster than anyone Dream's ever seen, grabbing him and throwing him into the concrete wall. "Oh, he hurt you," Bad's voice drops, staring at the injuries George has. "I'd like this one, Techno." 

"No problem," Techno backs up, shrugging. "Not a problem. You alright, man?" George shudders, breathing way too fast to be okay.

"You're okay," Dream moves forwards, kneeling down. "Does he..does he have a key on him, Bad?"

"Not sure," Bad admits, and Dream hears a crunch, a wet noise. He watches as Bad slams the man into the wall, smashing his head into the concrete more than enough times. He drops the man to the ground, giving him a kick to the ribs. Bad crouches down, shifting through his pockets. "He does!" He beams, tossing the key over to Dream. "Goodness, I forget how fun the thrill is."

"You should start back up," Techno recommends, standing over the body of the man. Dream shakes his head, working as fast as he can to unlock the shackles around George's legs, his arms, his torso. "Surprised you didn't make it last." 

"I was kind of upset," Bad admits, giggling right after that. "I didn't have a lot of time to think about how I'd draw it out. He deserved it, though. I wish I hadn't killed him so fast," he sighs. "But I can't bring him back now." He sighs again, this time more wistfully. 

"I'm sorry," Dream murmurs, backing up once everything is unlocked. George starts to stand, and he _immediately_ stumbles forwards. "Shit, George-" Dream moves, wrapping his arms around the man as he hits his chest, crying out as soon as he does. "Fuck, are you okay?"

"Language," Bad mumbles, but it's not as chiding. "He probably lost blood. Take off his shirt."

"What? I'm not taking off his-"

"To check for _stab wounds_ , Dream," Techno moves closer. "Just hold him still, I'll slide his shirt off. God, he took a beatin'. He tried real hard to get out," he sighs, shifting George's shirt so it's able to slide off of him. "Lift his arms up," Dream does, watching as Techno throws it aside. " _Oh_. Okay."

"It's bad," Dream frowns. "It's..it's really, really bad." 

"He'll be okay," Bad shakes his head, moving towards the table that's by George's chair. "There's gauze here. Nothing for anything else, but we can at least wrap him until we get back to your place. Do you have a good first-aid kit, Dream?"

Dream shakes his head. "I've got a basic one, but not a..an advanced one. Does he need actual medical attention? I can break into the hospital. I'll call Wilbur. I'm calling Wilbur."

"Good idea," Techno sighs, letting Dream shift George from his arms to Techno's. "Here, Bad. There's a real nasty one on his chest.." Dream tunes them out, grabbing out his phone, dialing Wilbur, his hands shaking. He doesn't even know why, it's not like he gives a fucking shit about George, it's just..he's _hurt_. Dream doesn't like it when people he knows are hurt, he doesn't..he just _doesn't_.

"Wilbur," he breathes out as soon as the ringing stops. "Oh my god, Wilbur."

"What happened?" Wilbur sounds mildy panicked, probably picking up on his tone for once. "Is he alright? Did your plan go alright?"

"He's hurt," Dream shakes his head. "He's really, really badly hurt. He needs medical attention, Wilbur."

"Fuck," Wilbur curses. "Okay. Techno and Bad can't be seen in public. Neither can you. And I can't vouch for him," he curses again. "I don't even know his last name. I'm important, but hospitals don't fuck around. Just..take him back to your place. I know enough medicine to help him, alright? I'll be there in less than three minutes. Hurry." He hangs up right after that. Dream sighs, shoving his phone in his pocket.

"Wilbur said he's gonna come to my place. Bring a kit with him, help patch him up. Is he..how bad is it? One to ten." 

Bad shrugs. "He could have been a lot worse. A few broken ribs, he broke his hand, a couple of cuts. There's a deep one by his collarbone, but otherwise nothing. A solid six, probably? He's okay, Dream. He's just tired," Bad smiles at him, and it's shockingly comforting. "He's had a long day, that's all. Will's good with this kind of thing, George'll be just fine once he comes over, promise. Oh, and Techno?" He grins. "I want to take this place off of my bucket list. I don't like it anymore." Techno grins back, nodding.

"Got it. I'll mark it down," he pauses, flipping George up into his arms, bridal style. "Alright. We're all good to go. That went better than I thought it would. Good entrance, Bad."

"Thank you!" Bad beams, opening the door for them. "I'm sorry I was a little late. I got interrupted." The blood smell fades for a second when Dream leaves the room, but it hits back harder when he spots another body in the hallway. That's probably Bad's interruption. Well, that probably _was_ Bad's interruption. 

"He tried stoppin' you? What an amature," Techno snorts, kicking the body away from them as they all walk. "You good, Dream?"

"Yeah," Dream sighs. "Just tired. And annoyed. And mildly pissed off. No, I'm _really_ pissed off. Majorly pissed off." Bad nods, squeezing his shoulder. 

"It's hard," he frowns. "I'm sorry. I know you aren't really friends, but you're a good person. It hurts to see people you kind of like hurt. It's awful. If you wanna talk about it, I'm here for you, okay? We're friends now." Dream smiles, ducking his head. How can the literal serial killer, who bashed a man's head in, be so..kind? So calming? 

"Thanks, Bad. I think George might need it more when he wakes up," Bad nods, quietly agreeing. "God, this is stupid." 

"Yeah," Techno agrees, kicking open the door to the outside. "The car unlocked?" Bad nods again. Dream sighs, watching Techno carry George to the car, setting him down in the back seat. "You'll have enough room back here. Just be careful."

"Got it," Dream slides into the car, shifting a little so George's head is on his lap. It's the only place it can _go_ , and it's not like Dream wants to move him anymore than he's already been moved. "He's gonna bleed in the car, Bad."

"That's okay," Bad starts to back up. "He can't help it, it's not like it's his fault." 

Dream nods, quietly agreeing with it. He closes his eyes, letting himself slip into exhaustion.

* * *

"They're both fine. Fuckers were just tired, is all. You got it all covered from here, Wilbur? Bad 'nd I are gonna go raid a murder factory." 

"Yeah, I'm good. I'll be fine. Do either of you need anything? Or did you not get stabbed?"

" _Language_. And nope! Didn't get hit at all! They didn't have a chance. I'm okay, and I think Techno's fine. Just keep an eye on them. Thanks for coming over, Will."

"Of course," Dream blinks, stirring himself up. "There he is. Morning, Dream."

"Hey," his voice cracks a little. He grumbles, coughing to clear his throat. "How's George? Did he wake up?" Wilbur shakes his head, standing up. Dream tries his best to do the same, but he mostly just ends up sitting up, a little too dizzy to actually stand. 

"Not yet. He's still out of it. But he's all stitched and wrapped up. I doubt he'll have any infections, I got everything cleaned up fairly quickly. He'll be fine," Wilbur waves a hand, looking over towards Dream's door. "It'll just take some time. And you'll have to rewrap his stab wounds. There were a few in his stomach and back you lot apparently hadn't noticed. He's okay, though. Just passed out. He probably won't be up for another couple of hours." Dream nods, processing the information.

"Alright. Thanks, Wilbur." He just shrugs, patting down his coat. 

"It's not that big of a deal. Do you think you're gonna need to me to stick around, or do you have it from here? Keep liquids in him, if he gets dehydrated that'll be bad. He's not sick, but people react differently to this kind of shi.." he trails off before he finishes the word. 

"I'll be okay," Dream sighs, standing up, the dizzy feeling disappearing. "I'll call you if I need anything," Wilbur nods. "Thanks," he directs a smile towards Bad and Techno. "Seriously. I wouldn't..I couldn't have done that without help."

Bad grins, looping an arm around his shoulders. "Not a problem, Dream! Friends help out friends, right?" He beams at Techno and Wilbur, directing a sadder smile towards George. "You can call me, too. And Techno. We're all here to help, remember? We're friends." 

"No," Wilbur disagrees. "I can't bloody stand him. I only stick around for the benefits." Dream wheezes, giving Wilbur a shove.

"I hate him, too," he tells Bad. "But you two are okay," he smiles, flicking Wilbur on the side of the face, ducking down when he tries to retaliate. "Alright. Thanks again, guys. Really." 

"No problem," Techno shrugs. "Come on, Bad. Time to go kill some nerds." Bad grins a little sharper, practically bouncing out of Dream's house with Techno, the both of them disappearing. Wilbur sighs, making his way to the door, too. 

"Really, though," Dream sighs. "I don't like saying it, but..thanks, Wilbur." Wilbur smiles, looking a lot more human, less like a criminal. 

"We're.." he sighs, closing his eyes. "I don't not like you. I barely can stand you, but I still can. Call me if you need anything, Dream." 

"You too, Wilbur," he smiles back, watching as he goes, too. He sighs again when the door clicks shut, turning to look at George, who's passed out on the couch. "Fucking hell, man," he breathes out, shaking his head. "You scared the shit out of me, George," he moves to make his way to his kitchen, grabbing a cup out of his cabinet, filling it with water from his fridge. He sets it on the coffee table in front of him, wondering what the hell he can grab for him to eat. He has food, but what..what do you give someone after they've been _tortured_? Would it even be considered torture? Dream thinks so. "Fuck." He sighs, opening his fridge, scanning it for something light. He has a shit ton of yogurt that wasn't there before, so Wilbur probably shoved it there. Christ. He grabs one, fishing out a spoon from his drawer by the sink, turning to set those both on the coffee table. 

Oh.

George looks up at him, eyes sunken. He curls up in on himself a little, looking so much smaller than he did a few hours ago. "Dream." 

"George," Dream moves forwards, setting the yogurt down in front of him. "Are you okay?" George starts to try and stand, crying out when he does. "George! Jesus Christ, you can't _do_ that," he rushes in front of him, breathing out. "You're hurt. You can't just stand right now. Not yet." George nods, and Dream sees tears on his cheeks, already falling. 

"I..I didn't think you'd come." 

"Why wouldn't I?" Dream frowns. "I..I'm not really into seeing people get hurt. I don't like it. And you kinda..you sort of grew on me, I guess. I don't know, I just..I wasn't going to leave you there. Wilbur fixed you up. And Bad killed the person who hurt you, so he isn't coming back. Techno and him are storming the place right now, so it's probably going to be completely fucked by the morning. Are you feeling okay? Better?" George breathes in, shakily reaching for the cup of water. Dream reaches back out, putting his hand on George's. "You'll spill it. Here," he picks up the cup, sitting down next to the other guy. He helps him drink, making sure he doesn't accidentally fucking waterboard him or something. "Do you want to eat that now? Or do you want something else?" 

George shakes his head, his entire body shaking with it. "I'm just..I don't know. I thought.." he closes his eyes, leaning forwards. "I..I'm cold." 

"Okay," Dream slides off his hoodie, his knife hitting the floor in front of him. He kicks it to the side, holding his hoodie up. "You just need to put your arms up. I've got the rest covered." George does, wincing as he lifts up his arms, eyes squeezed shut. Dream manages to get the hoodie on him pretty quickly, not wanting to accidentally hit any of the injuries he has, or hurt him. 

"I..thanks, Dream. I'm tired." 

"I'm sorry," he frowns. "You should try to eat, George. I don't think you had anything to day." He watches George sigh, watching him wince when he does that. 

"Fuck, my ribs," George breathes out, hands clenched into weak fists. "I don't know if I can, I'm sorry, I just-"

"It's fine," Dream shakes his head. "It's okay, don't worry about it. Do you want to go sleep in my room? I can pick you up. You're not that heavy." George laughs, a wheezing sound that'd be pretty if he didn't hurt when he did it.

"Okay," he smiles, "okay. Just..don't drop me, or something." 

Dream wheezes, sounding like a stupid fucking teakettle, but he doesn't even care. "Of course. I got you," and he does. He scoops George up into his arms, carefully moving him to his bedroom, setting him on the bed. "There. I'll grab your water. I'll chill out here." 

"I..you should stay."

"What?"

"I said," George coughs, clearing his throat. "You should stay. I don't want to be alone." Dream pauses, about to tell him off. But he stops, nodding. 

"Okay. I'll be right back," Dream doesn't quite close the door, walking out of the room to get George's water, throwing the yogurt vaguely in the direction of the sink. He picks up the cup, wondering how his life got like this. He kicks the door shut, setting the water down on his nightstand. "I'll just be down here."

"What?" George scoffs. "No, you..you're such an idiot," he sighs. "I meant..up here. I don't want to be alone. It's not the same if you're down on the ground."

 _Oh_. Dream swallows. "Okay," this hasn't happened in a while. Just..sharing something with someone. He's lived alone as long as he can really remember. Couch-surfing never counted, and it wasn't even couch-surfing, it was more like floor-surfing, if even that. He shifts himself into the bed, closing his eyes, clapping his hands twice. "Just..tell me if you need me to over. I don't want to irritate your wounds."

"You're okay," he can hear him turn, and he decides to crack an eye open. There's George, facing him, eyes wide open. "I, um, I'm sorry. Is this..are you.."

"It's okay," Dream offers George a smile, closing his eyes again. "Goodnight, George." 

"Yeah," George sounds like he's smiling back. "Goodnight, Dream."


	4. i'm pretty sure this whole kidnapping gig is actually worth it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, thoughts: i'm thinking about making it a series. the next work of this series would be of george's pov, and then the one after that would be of snapmap's. is that something you guys would like to see, or should i just leave this as is? i'd also throw in some other povs (wilbur, bad, techno) too :0

"You know," Dream watches as George leans back in his arms, his own arms crossed. "I think you just like carrying me around." Dream snorts, shifting so George won't accidentally slip and fall and fucking die.

"You're hurt. You were stabbed a bunch of times, and some of those stab wounds are in your legs. If you walk, you'll just fall. I'll have to carry you around either way, I'm just getting it done. So neither of us have to deal with the extra parts," he explains, setting George down on the couch. "If I could get away with it without you complaining, I'd definitely drop you. Maybe kick you a few times." 

George laughs, and Dream feels a little lighter. "I'm sure. I think you're just in love with me. That's the only thing that'd explain it." 

"You're so annoying," Dream rolls his eyes. "Next time you want to go somewhere, I'm definitely dropping you. Maybe from the balcony. I wouldn't even feel guilty, it'd be a burden off of my shoulders," George raises an eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed. "Fine. Not a burden, but a weight in my arms. Barely, though," he sighs. "You're like, sixty pounds."

"I am _not_ ," he protests, narrowing his eyes. "I'm a solid hundred or something," he puffs out his chest, raising an arm to flex. "I'm worth at least twenty grand, right?" Dream wheezes, leaning back on the kitchen door frame. "What, am I wrong? That's what you're bullying Sapnap into paying you." 

"I'm not _"b_ _ullying"_ him," he sneers. "He can do what he want. It was just a proposition. He didn't have to pay. I never told him he had to pay," Dream grins. "I just told him I was taking you, and if he wanted you back, he'd pay me money. He doesn't have to do anything," George's eyes go wide before they narrow again. Dream laughs when he scoffs, tossing his head, turning completely away from him. "Don't ignore me. This is my house and you can't walk, you absolutely cannot avoid me." 

"I can _try_ ," he huffs, but he does turn back, and Dream sees his smile. "I can't believe this. Thank god he didn't pick up on that. I can't stand you."

"I rescued you from a torture shack!" He frowns. "I called Techno, too. I got the whole gang together for you. I saved your ass, George. Be thankful." 

"I am," George smiles, sounding genuine. He probably is, he's not a criminal. He doesn't have much of a reason to lie to him. "Really," his voice drops a bit, getting a serious edge to it. "Really, Dream. Thank you. I didn't..I really didn't think you'd show up. I thought I'd die." 

Dream shakes his head, coming back to sit next to George. "I wasn't just gonna leave you," he sighs. "I couldn't do that. As soon as you were gone, I called Techno. He called Bad, and then I talked to Wilbur, and we arranged everything. I'm sorry I didn't show up sooner. I didn't know where you were, or what the fuck the place was called, or..literally anything. It was definitely an ambush," he scowls. How had he not realised that? Whatever, it's not like he even brought any money with him. It's not like he planned on bringing any money with him. "But I couldn't just let you die. Or get hurt," Dream winces. "More hurt."

"I'm okay," George smiles, nudging him with his good shoulder. "I'm just a little sore, but it's been a few days now, Dream. I'm not in that much pain. Might be thanks to all the fucking drugs you've given me, but I'm good. I promise. I, um.." George sighs. "I struggled. A lot. I listened to all your advice on how to _not_ get kidnapped, but that just..I panicked. I started to freak out really badly, and I just..I tried so hard to get away. I think if I just had waited it out..I would've been okay. But I freaked out. I'm sorry, that's..that's the only reason you even have to take care of me. You don't even _have_ to, you could just kick me out, or-"

"George," Dream interrupts. "It's okay. You're alright. I'm not gonna kick you out. I've..gotten used to you, or whatever," George stops, turning to face Dream. "What? Don't look at me like that."

"I knew you were in love with me." 

Dream snorts, resisting the urge to shove George. He _would_ , but he also got _stabbed_ , and Dream's pretty sure he'd accidentally hurt him if he did that. "You're such an idiot. You know what, fuck you. I'm lowering the price down to five dollars, and then I can just ship you back to Sapnap in a box or something," George wheezes, bumping Dream's shoulder with his head. "You're small enough to fit," he laughs, letting George stay there. "You're like, what, five nine? Sixty pounds? I could pick you up and dropkick you twenty miles, and that's just an _estimate_ -"

"Hello," Wilbur sighs. Dream sits up way too fast, bumping George back when he does. "Bad and Techno are in the car. I made them sit so you wouldn't get overwhelmed," he directs a look at George, smiling. "How're you?"

"I'm okay," George smiles back. "Thanks for..not letting me die. Dream told me you fixed me up." Wilbur shrugs, sitting down at Dream's kitchen table, playing with his knife. 

"I was paid," he lies. "It's the only reason I'd do anything for that bastard," he glares at Dream, who glares back. He'd take off the mask, but he's pretty sure Wilbur knows what he's doing. Fucking prick. "Has he been taking care of you well enough? Changing the wraps, keeping food and liquids in you?"

"Yeah," George laughs, nudging Dream with his elbow. "He's been doing his job."

"I'm literally _right here,_ " Dream rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as he leans back on his couch. "I've been doing just fine, thanks for asking. He's okay, I've made sure he isn't getting an infection in as stab wound or anything. He's fine. Why're you here, Wilbur? You could've just texted me." Wilbur grins, pushing his beanie back when he does, ruffling his hair. It falls right over his eye, and Dream wants to punch him. He _always_ does that, it's on purpose at this point. 

"I thought George would want to hear the news, too," he admits, standing back up. "Techno and Bad finished up their work. It won't be making headlines anywhere since I've decided that it'd be better to keep it quiet, but it's gone," Wilbur beams at George, leaning on Dream's kitchen door frame. "Oh, I don't think Dream told you how your kidnapper died. Bad slammed him up against a wall and caved his head in until there wasn't much of a head left," he grins a little more, that bloodthirsty look crossing over his face for a second. Dream knows Wilbur well enough to know that he wouldn't kill someone. He'd get someone else to do that, someone like Bad or Techno. He's done it in the past. But for a second, he can see Wilbur killing someone. He can see him killing someone who hurt someone Wilbur loved. Or liked. Tolerated, maybe. Wilbur's a very loyal person, and he expects the same in return. It's both amazing and awful, depending on who you are. Dream..Dream likes it, the dedication. He knows he'll never be betrayed or fucked over by him, and that's nice. Wilbur knows the same. "He probably didn't feel much, which is a shame, but it was _very_ brutal. I'm sorry you didn't get to kick him a few times yourself."

George laughs again, shifting closer to Dream when he does that. "It's alright. I wasn't really able to do much at that point anyways," he sighs, closing his eyes. Dream takes a few seconds to _really_ look at him. He's really fucking pretty, Dream decides, although he knew that already. But George looks so much better already. His face isn't as pale, he doesn't look nearly as ashen. He's finally able to lift his arms without that much pain, it's..nice. It's nice that he's getting better. Dream's happy he's getting better. "Tell Bad thank you for me." Wilbur nods, making his way towards the door. Dream wonders what he put in his house this time. 

"Of course," he shrugs, reaching out. "Talk to you later." He nods at both of them, opening and closing the door without another word. Dream can hear Bad's car start, then he hears it start to drive. 

"He's not as bad as I thought." George admits, smiling a little. 

"He's awful," Dream assures him. "Once you get to know him for more than ten minutes, he's a real bastard. Don't worry, you won't have to deal with him again," he pauses, tapping his coffee table. Wondering if he should do this. "George."

"Yeah?"

"I can call Sapnap," he turns, breathing out. "To come and pick you up. You don't have to stay here, he doesn't have to pay anything. You've already run into enough bullshit, and I don't..it's not like I need that money." 

George stares at him, frowning. Dream frowns back, not really expecting him to be _upset_ about being offered an out. "Why would I do that? I've already got another roommate." 

" _What_?"

"You heard me," he leans back, closing his eyes. "Sapnap's house is small anyways. I like your bed more than I liked the couch there. I think I'll just stay here." Dream stares at him, his jaw definitely unhinged. 

"What the fuck? You..I kidnapped you! I'm literally ransoming you back for money, you can't just..you don't just get to _decide_ that we're roommates!" He protests. "That is _not_ how this works at all, what the hell, George." 

"What, are you gonna kick me out?" George challenges, crossing his arms with a wince. "Force me back in Sapnap's house? You gonna carry me inside and drop me on the ground?" 

Dream's mouth hangs open, and he has _no_ fucking clue what to say. "I..I guess not," he breathes out. "I'm not going to do that. I guess.." he shakes his head, laughing at the pure obscurity of this situation. "I can't believe you decided that we're roommates. That's like, a discussion two people have. You can't just tell me that." George laughs back at him, grinning as he rests his head on his hand, shifting so he's facing Dream entirely. 

"I think I just did."

"I'm still dropping you off the balcony." 

"I'm sure you will," he smiles, closing his eyes. "I think you're happy I'm here," Dream smiles, turning his head away from him. Maybe he is, just a bit. It's been a long time since he's had someone to talk to, to just hang out with. He never had a lot of real friends growing up. He might have been fairly popular, but it's not like that just gets you real friends, people you could actually trust. "Dream?"

"Yeah?" 

"Why do you keep on your mask all the time? It's not like anyone outside sees you without it. No one would even know it was you if they saw you in your house."

Dream sighs, closing his eyes. The mask becomes a lot more apparent on his face as soon as George says that. "I don't like the way I look," he answers. He's being honest, he just..doesn't. His parents always told him that he was handsome, a lot of people in high school said the same thing. "I'm not that good looking. I don't like people seeing my face. That's why I yelled at Sapnap to give me my mask. I _really_ don't like strangers seeing my face." 

"Oh," is all George says. That's all people say most of the time. It's what Wilbur said. "I'm sorry. It's not like a.." George sighs, breathing out loudly. "I'm not one to judge. I don't like the way I look, either. I wear those stupid goggles because it hides some of my face. I lost them when I got kidnapped, and it's kind of been..weird. I thought it'd drive me in-fucking-sane, but it just..didn't. Maybe it's because you're the only person who really sees me. And Wilbur, Bad, and Techno. But I don't spend all my time with them," Dream..he doesn't know what to say to that. "I'm sorry, that just..it sounds stupid, I know-" Dream reaches up, untying his mask, breathing out as he sets it on the table, turning to face George. "Oh."

"Hi," he smiles, feeling naked. He feels completely off-centre without his mask, but..it kind of feels nice, too. In a weird, fucked up way, it feels better. "I look kind of stupid, I'm sorry."

"You don't," George frowns at him. "I like the way you look." Dream blinks, briefly realising that he can't hide his expressions anymore. Fuck. 

"I like the way you look, too." _Fuck_. What the fuck is wrong with him? That sounds so fucking weird and creepy, what the hell? That's such a stupid thing to say, Jesus Christ, George is going to punch him in the face, and-

"I think I like you," George coughs. "Like, a little bit more than I probably should, 'cause you kidnapped me and all, but it's been like, a week or two since we've met, and I don't know," he breathes out, "I think I like you? You saved my life, and you're actually really nice and not a bad person like I thought you'd be, and I think I have a crush on you, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to start talking, but-"

Dream leans forwards, deciding to just kiss him to shut him the fuck up. George kisses him back, and Dream can't help but feel..lighter. Happier. He pulls back after a second, feeling so, so hot. God, his face has to be on fire, he can't fucking believe he did that. "I think I like you too." George laughs, his eyes crinkling. 

"You _think?_ You kissed me."

"I did." Dream confirms. 

"I..okay. You should do it again," George tells him. Dream wheezes, but he figures George is probably right. So he does, bumping heads with him as he kisses him again, this time less of a mess, more..controlled. He moves back after however long, feeling like he's on fire, in the good way. "Is this..did you brainwash me?"

"Probably," Dream wheezes, grinning so hard it hurts. "It's been a long time."

"Since this?"

"Yeah." 

"Same," George sighs, smiling right back at him. "Let's go out."

"Like..metaphorically or physically? Because you're still hurt, George, you literally got stabbed." 

George snorts, giving him a shove back. Dream would definitely retaliate, but he doesn't want to hurt him. "Metaphorically. As in dating. As in boyfriends." Hearing the word is.. _weird_. Dream breathes out, ducking his head down. Holy shit. 

"I..that would be cool, yeah." George laughs, louder than Dream's heard him. 

"That'd _be cool_?" He laughs even more, doubling over, grabbing at his stomach with his hands, hair falling perfectly in his face. "Oh my god. You're so off with this. How long's it been?"

" _Long_ ," Dream wheezes, spreading out his arms as far as they can go. "I've been busy leading a life of crime," he smiles, standing up. "Speaking of life of crime. I need to go do a heist with Wilbur and Techno. Oh, and maybe Schlatt, if Wilbur bails him out," Dream sighs. "Are you okay to stay by yourself? I can call it off," George smiles, standing with him, his legs buckling almost immediately. He hits the couch again, sighing way too loud. "George!" Dream glares at him. "Where did you want to go? I'll just carry you there, Jesus Christ, George."

"Eventually my legs are just gonna stop working because you've carried me everywhere," George protests, closing his eyes. "But I wanted to come with. I heard you two talking about it. You're both loud."

"You've been stabbed like, thirty times," Dream counters. "You can't walk. I'm not taking you on the heist. I'll stay here, I'll tell Wilbur to fuck off. It's not like he can _make_ me go. I'll just dropkick him."

"He's taller than you."

"Fuck you."

George laughs, grinning up at him. Dream smiles back, feeling his heart ram into his chest, a lot faster than it probably should be. "Fine, okay. I'll stay here. You can go, Dream. We're..together, yeah, but that doesn't mean I suddenly get to control what the fuck you do," he waves a hand. "But I want to go to the bedroom. And I want you to make me popcorn before you go. And I want a water."

"Jesus Christ," Dream sighs, but he scoops his..boyfriend, god the word feels weird, up into his arms. "Why do you even want popcorn? You haven't had anything in like, days, and popcorn's the first thing you choose? No. I'm giving you something healthy, like a salad. Or whatever Wilbur brought over." George raises an eyebrow at him. Dream raises one back.

"He brought something over?"

"Yeah," Dream sighs again. "He always does. He brought me Lucky Charms once. An apple a few days ago. A fuck ton of yogurt. I'm not sure what he left this time, but he left _something_. He always does, it's like, his thing." Dream watches as George smiles, setting him down on the bed. 

"He's..weird."

"And a bitch," Dream adds. "I'll get you your water, but you are _not_ getting popcorn. When I come back, I expect you to be in bed," he pauses before he goes to the kitchen, hand resting on the frame. "Do you have life alert?" George laughs, a wheezing sound that makes Dream's heart race. "It's a serious question! Do you? If you fall, I'm not helping you get back up."

" _No_ , I don't have fucking..life alert," George tells him between laughs, eyes closed, laying back in bed. "I won't get up, I promise. I'll just piss myself if I have to go to the bathroom, don't worry."

"Sounds good," Dream snorts, making his way to his kitchen. He glances at the table, spotting..Wilbur's knife. And a muffin. But the knife, more importantly. "What the fuck?" He tilts his head, stopping at the table. He grabs his phone from his pocket, frowning. 

_me: hey fuckface u left ur knife @ my place_

_bitch: That was a conscious choice, yes._

_me: what the fuck i dont want it_

_bitch: Okay, bring it when you come over, then._

_me: fuck you_

_bitch: Fuck you._

Dream sighs, shoves his phone back in his pocket. He stares at the knife before pocketing that, too. It has to be some sort of..weird, peace offering. But they've been "at peace" ever since they met. Dream's never had an actual issue with Wilbur. He hates him and all that, yeah, but they're.. _friends_. Sort of. In some shitty, fucked up way, they are friends, even if they wouldn't admit it, even if held at gunpoint. Dream shakes his head, grabbing the muffin. Blueberry. He grabs a cup from his cabinet, filling it with water from his fridge. "I got your shit."

"Thanks," George smiles, grabbing the muffin as soon as it's in his reach. Dream rolls his eyes, setting the glass of water on his nightstand. Their nightstand? He doesn't know. "Is that what Wilbur left?"

"The muffin? Yeah. I hope you like blueberry."

"It's not bad," he shrugs, scooting up to sit properly instead of just laying down. "Thanks. I guess you'll be heading out, then?" 

"Yeah," he confirms. "You have my number, right?" George nods. "Okay. I..I'll be back. See you soon, George." 

George grins at him, turning on the T.V. "Yeah. I'll see you soon, Dream."

* * *

This really, really didn't go as planned. Dream vaults himself over a table, sliding into a wall. "Shit! This is bullshit, Scoot!" He shouts over his shoulder, ducking past the the fist of some bitch in the mob. "Techno!" He calls out, and- _oh_. There he is. Techno fully slams into the guy, kicking him in the ribs, twirling a little bit as he lands, looking poised as ever. "Thanks, man."

"No problem," Techno grins, his fangs jutting out just a bit. He slams his foot down on the guy's throat, and Dream glances away at the crunch. Ew. "Alright. Where's Wilbur? I didn't see him when I came over here. Is he gettin' stabbed?"

"I have no clue," Dream admits. "I hope so," Techno snorts, cracking his knuckles. "Hey. You got stabbed." Techno shrugs, flexing his arm a little. 

"Not that badly. I killed the dude anyways, it's not like he's gonna be doin' much anymore. We should probably go find Soot, just in case he got himself cornered. He's not much of a killer. I watched him freak out when a fuckin' moth landed on him." Dream grins, definitely prepared to use that information against him when he finds him again.

" _Techno_!" Wilbur shouts. Dream snaps his head, knife in his hand. He isn't going to _kill_ anyone, but he'll stab someone without an issue. Especially if Wilbur's cornered, he isn't going to just let him _die_. "Dream!" Techno looks at him for a second before they start to run in the direction of Wilbur's voice. "Hurry _up!_ "

"Comin'!" Techno calls out, punching another person in the face as they go, giving someone a shove into a wall. "Watch out, on your six," Dream barely manages to dodge the guy, sucking in his stomach to not get hit. "Good job," Techno snorts, jamming his elbow into a man's nose. "Soot, where you at?"

"Close!" Wilbur shouts again, and Dream really just wants to punch him now. "Take two more lefts, I'll be there!"

"Got it!" Dream nods to himself, sliding past another member of the mob. He has _no_ clue how the _mob_ found them here, or why the fuck they even wanted to interfere, but it's too late to be asking questions now. He ducks, rolling under the legs of a man, getting back up just as fast as he slid, scrambling away. He can hear Techno behind him, stabbing, slashing, punching, and otherwise _ruining_ the people he's avoided without much of a problem. "You good, Techno?"

"Just fine," Techno snorts again, and Dream wonders if it's because he's genuinely amused, or if it's just something he does. "Go make sure Wilbur isn't gettin' beaten up." 

"Got it," he repeats, a bit quieter this time. He takes the two lefts Wilbur said to, running right into him, bumping heads. " _Ow_ , what the _fuck_ , Wilbur."

Wilbur rolls his eyes, beanie half hanging off his head. "Don't "what the fuck" me, Dream. Techno is.."

"Right here," Techno rests his arm on Dream's shoulder, his trench coat stained with blood. "Did you get the money?"

"Yeah," he breathes out, suit torn and ragged. "I just got fucking mauled. I thought you were going to stick with me."

"Hey," Techno holds up his hands, eyes closed. "I never promised anythin'. Just sayin'." Wilbur sighs, crosses his arms. 

"Whatever. But I got it. Let's just get the fuck out of here, I didn't think the _mob_ would take an interest. I'll have to yell at Schlatt." 

Dream wheezes, pushing up his mask a little, feeling it slip down. "I don't think he controls the mob, Wilbur," he grins. "Can we call Bad? I'm not walking back home." Wilbur nods, dialing Bad quietly. They don't really talk much, just say a few words and it's done, but that's okay with Dream. The sooner they get out of this place the better.

* * *

"I can't believe you punched him." 

"What was I supposed to do?" Dream winces as George wraps his hands. "Just let him beat me to death?" George stops, staring at him with the most unimpressed look Dream's ever seen. 

"No, you dumbass. You shouldn't have broken your hand, though. You hit him too hard." 

"Adrenaline."

"You can't blame everything on adrenaline." 

"Fuck you."

"No," George sighs. "Come on. You know what I meant. You need to be careful. You can't just go absolutely ballistic on a man and almost kill yourself doing it," he sighs again, looking genuinely concerned for a second. "Dream. Please be careful. I know I'm not even a criminal, but I don't want to have to deal with you permanently hurting yourself, okay? For me, at least?" Dream sighs, turning his head away, staring at their bedroom floor. 

" _Fine_. Only because you asked. I'll be okay, I promise. I just wasn't thinking. If it makes you feel any better," he grins, "Techno killed him like, right after I punched him. So it worked out in the end." 

George glares at him. "Yes, and then you got blood on your clothes. And I had to wash it out."

"You didn't have to do anything," Dream counters. "You're still in bed. I'm still carrying you around, because _you're_ still hurt. I didn't tell you to wash it."

"Well," George huffs, looking away for a second. "I..I like that hoodie." Dream wheezes, leaning forwards. 

"I'm gonna have to get another one," he grins. "You keep stealing the one I use for work. It's my signature hoodie. You can't just steal it." George raises an eyebrow at him, taping the gauze to his hand. 

"I think I already did," he smiles, moving back. "There. You should be good. Just don't punch anyone. Make Techno or Bad do it. I know they'll do it. For free." Dream sighs, leaning back on the bed next to his boyfriend. The word sends a spike of happiness to his head. He still can't believe it. He still doesn't believe it. 

"Just because they're serial killers," Dream starts, "doesn't mean I can just tell them to kill people. They have standards."

"They don't," George laughs. "They really, really don't. Techno killed someone because they looked at him wrong, Dream. They are literal serial killers. They kill people for fun."

"Techno didn't kill him _just_ because he looked at him the wrong way," he corrects. "There was also money laundering under that. That was just the final straw."

"You're ridiculous."

" _You_ asked _me_ out," Dream reminds him. "This is your doing." 

George smiles, and Dream does the same. "Yeah, I guess I did do that. Hey, Dream?"

"Yeah, George?"

"I..I love you." Dream feels his heart stop, start again, and try to strangle him. It skyrockets into his chest, beating faster than it ever has, jumping into his throat, keeping him from breathing. He can't even begin to explain the genuine happiness he feels, the way George makes him feel. It's something he hasn't felt in _such_ a long time, and George just made all those buried feelings surge right back up to the surface, stronger than they ever have before. It's..it's hard, Dream thinks. It's hard to like someone this much, to consider someone this important. To be scared of losing them. To be genuinely terrified of losing them. He's scared. He's so fucking scared, he's never been this scared in his life. Not even in his first heist, his first break in. His first robbery left him less nervous than this, but the reward pales in comparison to what he has now. Dream breathes in, smiling at George with the softest smile he can manage. 

"I love you too, George."


	5. yeah, this whole kidnapping gig was definitely worth it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, 18,000 words later and here we are, right at the end! thank you all SO much for the support!! this fic has gotten so much support it's unbelievable! i was so happy with all the feedback i got! :D
> 
> ALSO: look forwards to george's pov sometime later this week! it'll be 5 chapters like this one, and we get to see just what the hell george was thinking when he got reverse kidnapped! :DD

"And so, like I was saying, I said shut the fuck up!"

"Language!" 

"Oh, what, you think you can just control what I say? Shit, fuck, fuck-" Schlatt's mouth is covered by Wilbur, who rests his head on the other guy's, sighing loudly. Loud enough that Dream can hear it, from the literal other side of the table. He has no idea why he thought inviting everyone over would be a good idea, but it's too late to kick them out. Well, it's never too late to kick them out, actually. He could totally kick them all out and he would feel absolutely fine about it. But George wanted them all to come over, including Schlatt, who he'd never met before, and Dream isn't good at saying no to his boyfriend.

"Dearest Schlatt," Wilbur hums. "Stop cursing in front of Bad. It's rude." Schlatt glares up at him, eyes narrowed. Dream wheezes, having a hard time taking either of them seriously, especially Schlatt. The fucker always has a look of perpetual rage on his face, and Dream finds it hilarious. At least he wears his suits properly. Probably because that's all he _ever_ wears. Dream's still yet to see him wearing something other than a suit. 

" _Thank you_ , Will," Bad smiles, resting his hands politely in his lap. "Can we celebrate now? I'm so excited!" He beams, bouncing in his seat a little, glancing over at Dream and George. Dream raises an eyebrow at him, and he grins back in response. "You know..about you two! George told you, right?" Dream frowns, turning to face George who looks a little bit too guilty. "Oh. _Oh_. Oops, sorry George."

"It's fine, Bad," George sighs, but he's smiling, so it can't be all that bad. "I told everyone that we're dating. Except Wilbur." 

"You're _what_?" Wilbur stumbles back, hitting Dream's wall, eyes huge. "What? What the..no. No way. Dream couldn't score you. He couldn't get anyone. There's no way, that's stupid. You're lying. You're lying to me. You're actually coming to work with me in Soot Inc. That's the only explanation here for such a disgusting, horrible attempt at a joke." George laughs, wrapping an arm around Dream's shoulders. 

"You suck, Scoot. And _no_ , it isn't a joke. He asked me out first, for clarification." 

"You brainwashed him?" Wilbur gasps, throwing his hand over his chest, looking genuinely concerned. "Dream, what is _wrong_ with you? Brainwashing is ridiculous. I am _so_ disappointed in you. I cannot believe you've stooped this low. Disgusting."

Dream glares at him. "Okay, Mr. Scoot. Didn't you try to ask the coffee shop clerk out? Didn't he turn you down? Didn't you ask another clerk out three weeks ago? She turned you down too, right? Didn't you-"

"Shut up!" Wilbur shouts, throwing himself back in his chair. "That was simply..a misfortunate accident. That never happened. You..whatever," he sighs, looking away. "George," he turns back. "Good luck. I've known him for around a year and I have never been more unfortunate to meet someone." Dream snorts. 

"It hasn't even been six months. You're _such_ a bad liar," he wheezes, shoveling a spoonful of mashed potatoes down his throat. "George, don't listen to him. Never listen to him. Don't talk to strangers. Wilbur is a stranger, he'll kidnap you. He's evil. Absolutely evil." 

"Evil isn't a word any of us can use at this table," Techno snorts. "We're all a certain kinda messed up. We've all done somethin' to get us a spot here. Tax fraud, murder, more murder, runnin' a company, freelancin', doin' whatever you want, we've all done it. Minus the whole runnin' a company thing. That's only you, Wilbur." 

Wilbur shrugs, leaning back in his chair with a grin. "What can I say? I like power."

"You're a control freak," Schlatt grins. "An absolute menace. A scourge."

"Can you really say that with two serial killers right next to you?" Wilbur challenges.

"Hey!" Bad pouts, crossing his arms. "It's been a bit since I've killed someone. You can't rope me into that, not yet. Not until I kill another person." He giggles, ducking his head at his own joke. 

"I killed someone last night," Techno shrugs. "Also, Wilbur," he sighs. "Can you tell your..man-child to stop tryin' to take all of my kills? Tommy, or whatever. He's been stealin' all my hits. He doesn't even kill 'em, he just..doesn't let _me_ do it. I don't even know if he's workin' for someone, but it's startin' to annoy me. I need to get in my quota, man. I'm just not the same unless I kill one person per day." 

"It is honestly a surprise you aren't in jail," Dream stares at him, blinking. He turns at the sound of a doorbell, sighing. "Please don't talk about murder when Sapnap comes in. He's not a criminal."

"What, and George is?" Techno snorts, rolling his eyes. Dream sighs back at him, getting up to get the door for Sapnap.

"Hey," Sapnap grins, sauntering on in. "George!" He spreads open his arms, and there's George, crashing into him. "How are you? I know you're doing _good_ , but.." he grins at Dream, wiggling his eyebrows. Dream rolls his eyes, sitting back down. 

"I'm good," George laughs, pulling himself back from his friend. "I'm good, promise. How'd you feel when Dream told you to stop looking for the money?" 

Sapnap scoffs, crossing his arms. "I was fucking pissed, not gonna lie. I had spent all this time searching and scouring around, getting actively involved with the mob and almost dying like ninety times, and then I just got told to..not worry about it? God, I was pissed."

"Language," Bad chides. "Hi, Sapnap! I'm Bad!" He introduces himself with a soft smile, gesturing to himself. "This is Technoblade. But he goes by Techno. And that's Will, but you probably know him."

"Wilbur," Wilbur corrects. "Call me Wilbur."

"And that's Schlatt!" He beams. "He's business partners with Will." Sapnap nods, sitting down next to George and Schlatt. 

"Cool. So..we've got two corrupt businessmen, whatever Dream is. What do you two do?" He asks, tilting his head a little. Dream sighs. He really, really hoped that Sapnap would just ignore the fact that Bad and Techno didn't say anything about their professions, but what did he expect? In the few days he's really talked to Sapnap, he's a turned out to be a super curious fucker. 

"Well," Techno clears his throat. "I kill a person once a day for my mental stability. Bad kills a couple people per month, maybe every two months. Serial killers. Hitmen, whatever you wanna call it. But yeah, killin' people is what we do." Sapnap nods, clearly unphased. 

"Sweet. Well, I work in tech on the weekdays, but I've also kind of taken an interest in ransoming people. Kidnapping, I guess. I don't know if that whole kidnapping gig was actually worth it, 'cause I spent like, a whole month trying to figure out how to get money. And then I got told that the person I was getting money for ended up falling in love with his kidnapper, who we had kidnapped a month prior, so," he shrugs. "I'm not really sure what I'll be doing." Dream frowns, crossing his arms. 

"George told me you guys planned on assassinating me." Sapnap shrugs again. 

"Yeah, no. That was a literally just a ruse. It was supposed to, like, scare you, or whatever. But that didn't happen, clearly. So, anyways, anyone hiring?" Wilbur perks up at that, a grin spreading across his face. 

"I'm always hiring."

"Don't," Dream interrupts. "Do _not_ fall for it. He's the worst person here, and Techno literally murders one person per day. Maybe more. But at least one," that's an overstatement, and they all know it. Techno probably hasn't actually killed someone in a few weeks. It's not like it's just..an easy thing to do. He has to hide the body and shit, make sure he's paid, etcetera, etcetera. "Wilbur is the worst. He's absolutely terrible. He'll murder you and eat your corpse in front of all of us. Don't get a job with him. Do not. I'll kill you. I don't kill people, but I'll make an exception. No one I like gets to work for that prick." Bad sighs. 

"Dream, stop talking about your friend like that."

"I am _not_ his friend."

"We are _not_ friends," Wilbur says it at the same time as him, making a face. Dream does the same, but no one can see it, anyways. "I'd like to think that I'm, morally, a superior person by not enjoying Dream's company. Or his entire existence. I hate him."

"I literally hate you more," Dream glares at him, leaning back on his chair. "You're the worst thing that's ever happened to me."

"I regret ever speaking to you," Wilbur shakes his head. "I've never been more disappointed in myself for actively talking to you. I cannot believe I decided it would ever be a good idea. I want out of this stupid.. _partnership_. I hate using that word for what we are. It makes me feel sick." 

Dream scoffs. "Good. I hope you choke on your words and die, Scoot."

"And I-"

"Quiet," Bad sighs, rolling his eyes. "Both of you hush. You're both best friends and you both know it. It's rude to be mean to your friends all the time."

"I'm still not his friend," Dream shakes his head. He could _never_ admit that they're friends. Not in front of anyone. Not in front of Wilbur. He'd rather die than ever do that. "But whatever. Anyways, Sapnap," he turns, facing the other man. "Listen. I have a proposition. Don't work for Wilbur, I'll pay you back. And I'll double it." 

Sapnap grins. "I'm down for that. Sorry, Wilbur. Greed wins this time. My heart'll forever lust after you, though." Wilbur laughs, nodding.

"I'll agonise over you until you can finally find your rightful place in Soot Inc." 

"Shut up," Dream points a finger at him, sliding back out of his chair. "What do you want to eat? We have..takeout. Really bad takeout. And mashed potatoes, Bad made those. They're good." 

"Thank you!" Bad beams.

"Just grab me whatever," Sapnap waves a hand. "I'm good with anything." 

"Got it," Dream nods, grabbing the salad no one else grabbed. "Here," he tosses it at Sapnap, who barely manages to catch it. "Food."

"Thanks, lover."

"Don't," Dream rolls his eyes, sitting back down, right next to George. Right next to his boyfriend. "So, Tommy?"

Techno nods. "He's an absolute _child_. I don't even know how old he is, but he's got a baby face." Wilbur sighs, slouching over the table, burying his head in his arms. 

"He's sixteen." 

" _What_?" Dream wheezes. "He's..sixteen? Wilbur, he's an actual child. Children aren't allowed." 

"Well!" Wilbur huffs. "He was just..I took him in, that's all. He made some bad choices, I decided to help him out. It's not that big of a deal. He's actually bearable." 

Dream rolls his eyes again, leaning back on his chair. "Yeah, sure, whatever. I can't believe you're talking to children. Sixteen? Christ, Wilbur." 

"It's fine, his parents know," he mumbles. "They're not innocents, either. It's not like I fucking..seduced him, or whatever. I'm above that, Dream. How do you know George isn't fourteen? He looks like he's fourteen." George glares at him, and Dream can't stop his wheeze, ducking his head, almost hitting the fucking table.

"Language," Bad sighs. "And George does _not_ look fourteen. He's an adult, just like the rest of us." He smiles, leaning forwards a little, smiling a bit more at Sapnap. 

Dream..he can't believe he's here. He's surrounded by people he actually cares about. People he..people who he loves. His boyfriend is right next to him, laughing and talking about some stupid money laundering program he heard about, and he's _so_ pretty. Dream has no idea how he managed to score him, how he managed to..just.. _god_. Wilbur's smiling and and laughing, punching Schlatt and reaching over to hit Techno and him. Bad's telling awful jokes and making Techno wheeze so hard he sounds like he's gonna fucking piss himself. He never expected to be here in his life. He always knew that he wasn't going to be a civilian, but he never expected leading a life of crime to feel normal. To feel right. It's so nice, just to have his best friends sitting around him, talking and eating and laughing, just being together. Dream leans closer to George, smiling as he reaches under the table to hold his hand. George looks up at him, grinning, bonking heads with him when Dream gets too close. "I love you." Dream murmurs.

"I love you too," George smiles, looking at him like he's the fucking sun. George is his sun, his entire world. It's only been a month or so, but it..it doesn't matter. Dream falls in love fast, and this time he isn't wrong about it. This time he knows he's found his person. "So, like I was saying. In more detail, yeah, I tried to kidnap him. But turns out, my ropes were awful, and well, I missed my shot. Sapnap hit him over the head, and.." his voice fades away, and Dream sighs, tuning everything out, just feeling warm and happy. 

This is home. 


End file.
